


Warrior of Yavanna

by Pallalalo



Series: Bilbo Baggins, Warrior of the Valar [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, BAMF Hobbits, Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, But it's skippable, Disability, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Everyone Needs A Hug, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Good King Thorin, Hurt Bilbo Baggins, Hurt Thorin, Hurt/Comfort, Interspecies Awkwardness, Interspecies Romance, M/M, Magical Bilbo Baggins, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overprotective Dwarves, Panic Attacks, Permanent Injury, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Thorin, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Tags May Change, Thorin Feels, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:56:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29942067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pallalalo/pseuds/Pallalalo
Summary: Everytime he caught Thorin’s gaze, he felt his heart burst with love. The smile on Thorin’s face was something he would never forget. A smile that was so bright, Bilbo was sure it could melt pure ice- the smile of Durin himself, though it was a rare sight to see on Thorin Oakenshield.But after the excitement, there was the void.Bilbo closed his eyes, again, focusing on digging his fingers into the muscle of his leg, as well as he could.#The Valar send Bilbo back in time. He has changed the course of history, and those who had lived have died, and those who were supposed to die live. How will Bilbo navigate through this new, uncertain future to ensure his mission succeeds- For Thorin to live and for Frodo to smile?
Relationships: Balin/Dori (Tolkien), Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Bofur/Nori (Tolkien), Dwalin/Ori (Tolkien), Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies), Legolas Greenleaf/ Tauriel (unrequited)
Series: Bilbo Baggins, Warrior of the Valar [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637314
Comments: 25
Kudos: 52





	Warrior of Yavanna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everytime he caught Thorin’s gaze, he felt his heart burst with love. The smile on Thorin’s face was something he would never forget. A smile that was so bright, Bilbo was sure it could melt pure ice- the smile of Durin himself, though it was a rare sight to see on Thorin Oakenshield. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are back with the third movie!!! (not the final installment~)
> 
> The schedule will look something like me updating once a week, thursday or friday! next update will be next week, 18th or 19th march!!!
> 
> thank you, again, for all the love you have shown, your comments and kudos mean the ABSOLUTE world to me!!!!! A whole year has passed since the first fic, and the fact that y'all have stuck with me through this, gives me so much happiness and joy (and your faith in me <3 i hope i can live up to it), and I'm still thinking about Thilbo

~~And you say,~~

~~"As long as I'm here~~

~~No one can hurt you"~~

What was there to say?

In the sight of Smaug the terrible, there was a Company of Dwarves, celebrating in circles, dancing, and shouting their praise for their maker.

In the sight of Fili the Dragonslayer, the Crown Prince of Erebor, and Saviour of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, there were songs sung, there were hugs exchanged, and there were heads held together, with tears of fear spilled freely. 

In the sight of Thorin Oakenshield, the King Under the Mountain, and Returner of the Dwarves, the Company danced in circles around their King, with elaborate steps and deep bows, knocking rhythmically against the stone of their forefathers, and hands pressed to the stone that gave birth to one of the greatest dwarven kingdoms to have existed. 

Bilbo Baggins, a simple Hobbit from the distant Shire in the far West, carrier of the Lady Yavanna and the Ring of Power, watched his dwarves sing and dance throughout the night. They taunted the corpse of Smaug, they carried Fili Dragonslayer on their shoulders, and they bowed to Thorin. 

He sat on the edge of the stone, on the staircase that descended into this empty hall, watching them in a circle now, with Thorin and his sister-sons in his arms, with a soft smile on his lips. 

Singing in Khuzdul, Bilbo had taken a step back, letting them embrace their ancestral home. It was not something he could sing along to, nor was it something he could dance to. His right leg, though healed by the Light of Yavanna, was still aching terribly. The skin had been sealed, left only a healing scar, though the ache was still there. 

It was a phantom pain, something deep and lasting, though not quite there. Something similar he felt in his left hand when he tried to move his middle finger and his ring finger but didn’t manage- when he looked at the empty space of his pinky finger. 

He almost felt guilty, sitting off to the side, wallowing in his pain, while there was such joy being sung. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t feel happy. 

That wasn’t it. 

Everytime he caught Thorin’s gaze, he felt his heart burst with love. The smile on Thorin’s face was something he would never forget. A smile that was so bright, Bilbo was sure it could melt pure ice- the smile of Durin himself, though it was a rare sight to see on Thorin Oakenshield. 

But after the excitement, there was the void. 

Bilbo closed his eyes, again, focusing on digging his fingers into the muscle of his leg, as well as he could. 

Laketown was saved, and no one had died. 

Never in Bilbo’s wildest dreams had he ever thought he could have done anything like this. 

“Bilbo!” 

He opened his eyes to find Thorin calling out to him, breaking through the circles of dwarves around him to reach his Hobbit. 

“Is your leg ailing you?” Thorin walked the steps up, but paused below Bilbo, reaching out to take Bilbo’s right leg in his warm hands. 

“N-no, it’s just a bit-” Bilbo shrugged, but relaxed at the soft touch. Thorin’s fingers were calloused, and rough, a life of hardship buried in those fingertips, but they were gentle and warm nevertheless. 

“I think there is someone else in these halls who we owe our lives to.” Thorin stood up, and turned back to the Company, that had gathered at the bottom of the stairs that Bilbo was sat on. 

“Oh, Thorin, really-” Bilbo was about to stop him, when Thorin turned back to him, his blue eyes swimming with tears. 

“Bilbo Baggins. You carry an ancient magic with you, that calls to something deep inside us.” Thorin got down on one knee, on the steps. The dwarves followed, staring at him with wide eyes. Bilbo accidentally looked at Fili and Kili, and the brothers shared wide grins- too wide. 

“It is not the first time your magic has saved my family, and I’m sure it won’t be the last, either.” Thorin continued talking, his grandiose voice perfect for this speech. Bilbo had no problem picturing Thorin as the King Under the Mountain when he spoke like this- though Bilbo had always had faith in Thorin. 

“We owe you our lives, and as such, you won’t be remembered simply as a part of this Company. Instead, you will be known as Bilbo  Khazâd-Kurdu, the Heart of this Company.” Thorin bowed his head slightly, and Bilbo huffed indignantly, and his face heated in embarrassment. 

“Thorin! Get up!” Bilbo hissed, and he looked away from the sight of Thorin on his knees. This was too much, and he was sure with the way certain dwarves were smirking at his red face that they were enjoying this too much. 

“I- this is too much. Don’t say things like that.” Bilbo tried to protest, and stood up hesitantly. He knew his leg was healed, but the sight of his mangled leg lay heavy in his mind, making him stumble.

“I have heard the names that the elves gave you, ghivashel.” Thorin looked up at him, and stood up properly. He took the two steps that separated him from Bilbo, and took both of Bilbo’s hands in his own. “Allow us dwarves to give you a name, too.”

“Oh, you heard that?” Bilbo grumbled, huffing.  _ Damn those Elves. So dramatic. _

“Yes.” Thorin smiled, “I did. I know not the name of your magic, but we recognize it as something ancient. And blessed.” 

Bilbo looked away from Thorin, feeling the stares from the other dwarves. If he had ever caught them looking at him with awe in their eyes at the magic he displayed- they were staring at him with a new sense of adoration. 

  
“Stop looking at me like that.” Bilbo grumbled, and pulled his hands out of Thorin’s hands. “You, too. Stop looking at me like-”

“Like what, Bilbo? Like you deserve all of our love?” Thorin said, quietly, and Bilbo took a step back, out of surprise, but there was something underlying in this that made Bilbo want to hide desperately.

Thorin caught Bilbo around his waist, and if Bilbo was to take another step, he would have fallen off the stairs. 

“I-” Bilbo stared up at him, and it was then, when the light of the fire lit up Thorin’s eyes just right, and he smiled softly-  _ so softly _ \- that he realized just how deep he was in it now. 

He could never leave Thorin behind like this. 

He could have in another life, had they never gotten this close. But with the way that Thorin’s hands curled around his waist, and the way he was staring at the Hobbit now, he knew he wasn’t strong enough to leave when the time came. 

After the battle, when Bilbo was supposed to return to the Shire, and raise Frodo by himself, that was when he ought to leave. Until then, he could ensure the safety of his love, could ensure the safety of his dwarves, and decide what he should do about Frodo, and his dear parents. 

Now. 

This changed everything, and Bilbo knew Thorin was awaiting an answer. Could hear the dwarves resume their song and dance. 

Speechless, he stared up at Thorin, and finally decided the only way he could answer was like this- pulling Thorin by his shirt down, Bilbo kissed him deeply, leaning in so there was no space between them. He tried to convey everything he couldn’t speak aloud with his touch, and with his kiss. A gentle sort of promise, with caressing fingertips, and tears slipped down his cheeks. 

Thorin responded just like this, holding Bilbo close, and picking him up easily. He sat down with Bilbo on his lap, rubbing down his back. Pulling away, Bilbo breathed in the same air as Thorin, their noses bumping against the others’.

“How dare you make me cry like this?” Bilbo whispered, wiping away his tears. 

“It’s been a long day, ghivashel, I would be worried if you hadn’t spilled any tears. Fili killed a dragon, you broke a leg and healed in the same hour, and we have reconquered our kingdom.” Thorin kissed Bilbo’s cheek, his hands digging below Bilbo’s shirt now. 

“Th-thorin!” Bilbo pulled away from Thorin’s kisses, looking over his shoulders to the other dwarves. Fili and Kili were dancing together, holding hands while they were running wildly in a circle. Nori and Bofur were dancing together, too, though this seemed a more romantic dance than was appropriate. Balin was talking with Dori, Ori clutching the back of Dori’s coat, rubbing his face along his brother’s shoulders. Dwalin, Bombur, Gloin, and Bifur were singing, all sat on the floor together, drumming along the stone for a steady rhythm. Oin stood beside them, playing a small flute to go along with the melody. 

“Not in front of the others.” Bilbo flushed an even deeper red, he was sure. 

“They’re not watching us.” Thorin assured him, nosing along Bilbo’s throat. “I just wish to show you my affection, after we have slaughtered the dragon. I’m feeling very-” Thorin pressed a wet kiss to the bottom of Bilbo’s throat, “adventurous.”

“This isn't very proper of a king, is it?” Bilbo breathed out, tightening his knees around Thorin’s hips, edging up on his legs for a more secure seat. 

“No, no, it’s not.” Thorin sighed, leaning back on the steps while looking up at Bilbo. “And when the time comes, I hope you’ll allow me to court you properly in the way of the dwarves and the hobbits. We will do it the right way, I vow this to you, but for now- I must disregard centuries’ worth of rituals. I cannot keep my hands to myself,  amrâlimê , if you have me, I will clean out the royal chambers single-handedly so I can have you.” 

Bilbo looked down at him, and shook his head. How he ever thought he could leave this dwarf behind, he could not remember. He leant forward, his hands crawling up Thorin’s chest, and kissed him again. 

“I suppose I can allow this.” Bilbo smiled softly at him, then struggled to stand up again, legs spread a little too widely over Thorin’s hips to get up comfortably. 

Thorin grinned, sliding his hands down Bilbo’s back, resting over his arse, but settled underneath his thighs, and in one movement, the King stood up, and carried Bilbo down the stairs. 

“Thorin, put me down.” Bilbo groaned, burying his face in Thorin’s neck. He could feel the stares of the others on them. Any more blushing, and he would not have any blood left in the rest of his body. 

“I want to make sure they know that you are mine.” Thorin sounded entirely too confident when he said this, almost bordering on possessive, and Bilbo had to remind himself that they were in the presence of others and it was  _ not _ appropriate to start grinding against Thorin. 

“I think they know already.” Bilbo shook his head, and touched the braid in his hair. “What did it mean, again? Promised to the king?” He teased Thorin once Thorin had set him back down again. 

It was Thorin’s turn to blush. 

“Everybody.” Thorin turned to the others, smiling brightly. The smell of death lay in the air, heavy and thick of rotting corpse in another hall, but there was no dampening the spirit of the dwarves. 

“The time for a feast will come. When the dwarves of the blue mountain return, we will fill these halls with our voices, and we will rebuild our kingdom. Night has fallen, and tomorrow will be a day of work. We need to clear the dragon’s corpse from the wealth of our people, and we need to find the Arkenstone.” Thorin called out, his hand still on the small of Bilbo’s back. 

Did he feel the shiver that went down Bilbo’s back?

The chorus of joy echoed around the hall they were in, and Bilbo looked up at Thorin. He saw the dwarf he loved, not the dwarf he feared. He had left the treasure pile with ease, rushing to hug his nephews, rushing to hold Bilbo. He left the golden coins behind, stepping into this empty hall to celebrate with his Company, away from the shine and allure of it. 

He had done it with a spring with his step, leading the first song of the night. 

Bilbo had to trust Thorin, and when Thorin looked at him with a smile reserved just for him, he knew he would fight for him. 

He knew how now. 

And so, they went up the stairs that led them away from the deep halls of the treasure and its dragon, and into the higher part of the kingdom, into the residential areas. 

The joy that they had been swept up in disappeared as they climbed up. Thorin led them, taking slow steps, and sliding his hand across the stone as they went up. 

Fili followed, walking next to Bilbo, Kili following them quickly. 

“You’re staying, then?” Fili spoke quietly, looking up at Thorin. “You said the future would be uncertain, and you could not stay.”

“I- yes. I’m staying.” Bilbo said, looking down at the steps. They were steep steps for hobbit feet, and Bilbo really should have anticipated that Fili would not forget their conversation. “I don’t think I have the heart to leave anymore.” 

“You were going to leave?” Fili grabbed Bilbo’s elbow, pulling him off to the side where the staircase branched off. The other dwarves, mainly Nori and Bofur who had been right behind them, gave them odd looks but followed Thorin in their deep mourning silence. 

Kili stepped off with them, watching with wide eyes, mouth shut tightly. 

“I have a home in the Shire.” Bilbo shrugged, “Of course, I was going to leave at one point. I still have to go home at one point. Now, though, I hope to return here. Thorin said-” he let out a shaky laugh, smiling at what he had said earlier. How he would have loved to hear those words in his last life, “Thorin said he would court me. I assume dwarves court for life.” 

“We do. Thorin wishes to court you.” Fili repeated, looking at Kili, and simultaneously their mouths curled into wide smiles. “I told you we’ll be calling Bilbo Uncle before the end of the trip!” Fili nudged Kili’s shoulder. 

Kili shrugged, putting his arm over Bilbo, “We were already calling you Uncle, though, Bilbo, and you don’t mind, do you? You’ve got your nephew, too. We’ll be expecting to meet him, at one point.” 

Bilbo bit his lip, thinking, they won’t be able to meet Frodo for another thirty years. 

“I think we should rejoin the others. I don’t think Thorin should be without his family when we clear the royal bedchambers.” Bilbo nudged the two young dwarves back onto the staircase with a sad smile on his face. 

He knew the two dwarves were torn between teasing him, and agreeing. 

They all knew who would be up there. 

Who hadn’t made it out when Smaug attacked. 

The three of them rushed up the stairs to catch up, and slipped past the Company on their way. 

Thorin stood at the top of the staircase, and turned around to watch the trio come up next to him. 

“We will split up. Dwalin, Balin, Fili, Kili, Bilbo, and I shall take the task to clear the royal chambers. The rest of you, turn here, and go into Dushin-Mizim, and claim your chambers there. Whatever you find, you can take. For tonight, rest. We shall meet tomorrow in the morning.” Thorin called out, and turned to leave, heading into the hallway to his left, though he hesitated for a step. 

The other dwarves nodded, and started talking amongst them, about what kind of rooms they would find, about which houses stood where, and what would be in them. Who would be in them. Bilbo, Fili, and Kili, however, stared at Thorin who still had not taken another step. 

Balin walked quietly up the stairs, and came to stand next to Thorin, putting his hand on his shoulder.

“I know, laddie.” Balin said quietly, leaning his head on Thorin’s shoulder. 

Thorin shook out of his stupor, and rested his head on Balin’s head shortly before turning back to the staircase. He extended his hands towards Fili, and Kili, offering a weak smile. 

“My sister-sons. Let us find your sister’s old room.” 

Fili and Kili reached upwards to take their uncle’s hands, and followed him, eagerly. Thorin flashed another weak smile at Bilbo, who followed the four. Dwalin walked in the back with Bilbo, slow. 

“Bilbo.” Dwalin whispered, but he kept his gaze to the front.

“Dwalin.” Bilbo answered, if a bit confusedly. 

“We might find- Thorin’s mother, she-” Dwalin spoke with difficulty, breaking off after every word, and there was something that Bilbo could only describe as a choked up cough, and Bilbo put his hand on Dwalin’s shoulder. 

“I understand.” Bilbo breathed out. Neither wanted to disturb the quietness nor the mood that Thorin had with his nephews. “We’ll be next to him.”

The last time they had walked these specific halls before, it had been after Thorin’s death. Balin had taken Bilbo up here, to view Thorin’s old room. To find appropriate clothing fit for the burial of a prince, since Thorin had never been crowned king. Balin had left for a while, and when he’d come back, he’d been deathly pale, with wet cheeks, and Bilbo had been worried that Balin would drop dead. 

_ “I wish. I wish.” _ Balin had simply mumbled, closed his eyes, and spoke a few soundless words. Like a prayer.  _ “Thorin’s amad- his mother- she’s still here, and his ugmil’amad-” _

So Bilbo knew what to expect, knew that there were dwarves here that could shake his Company to the core. Thorin had been absorbed in the treasure as soon as they had stepped foot into this mountain, mind focused only on the gold- and finding the Arkenstone. 

This Thorin was a complete opposite to his old life. 

Nervous, and shaky, yet confident in his love and in his family. 

He hadn’t stepped foot in the treasure hoard of his grandfather since Fili had killed Smaug. 

Bilbo also hadn’t found the Arkenstone. 

“Aye. I would say try not to leave him alone tonight, but a little birdie told me that you wouldn’t have ta worry about that.” Dwalin said, and when Bilbo looked at him in surprise, saw an honest to Yavanna  _ smirk _ on the dwarf’s face. 

How Dwalin could even  _ think _ about that was beyond Bilbo, but then he turned his gaze back to the front, and saw Thorin looking at him with this  _ gaze _ \- 

Bilbo stumbled a bit, he’ll be honest, in surprise. It must have been the adrenaline from killing a dragon and reclaiming their home- and perhaps an unhealthy dose of denial of the potential tragedy they would have to face- that these dwarves were preoccupied with. 

_ Well. _

The halls were dark, the only light coming from Thorin’s torch at the front. On the walls hung beautifully woven tapestries, and Bilbo would have loved to pause and look at them, but Thorin pressed onward. The stink of dragon didn’t reach these halls either, though Bilbo was sure they were breathing in pure dust, and no air. 

“This is where my ancestors carved up our home.” Thorin paused at a branching of hallways, one to the left and one to the front. “To the left were the children’s rooms. My old room. Dis’ old room. My parents’ room. And over there were the bedchambers of the King, and the Royal Consort.” When he said this, he looked at Bilbo. 

“S-separate chambers?” 

“They were, though they shared a common bedroom in between.” Thorin nodded, and tore his eyes away from Bilbo, back to the direction of his parents’ room. 

Bilbo let out a shaky breath when Thorin took a step in that direction, and called out, “I would love to- to see your old room, actually, Thorin-” He stumbled forward, and put his hand on Thorin’s elbow. 

Fili and Kili smirked at him, he could  _ see  _ them from the corner of his eyes. They were smirking entirely too much tonight, at poor Bilbo’s sake. 

“Yes, Uncle. Show the Burglar your old room. Won’t you show us Amad’s room? What about Balin, and Dwalin? Where will they stay?” Kili asked with an air of innocence. 

Thorin turned around, facing his Company. He placed a hand on Bilbo’s lower back, possessively almost. 

“I will take the royal bedchambers, with Bilbo. Shut up, Kili- And You two to take your mother’s room, and Balin was to sleep in my old bed, and Dwalin could sleep in Frerin’s room. For tonight. These rooms should be clear, and the most comfortable.” Thorin frowned at Kili’s smirk. 

Bilbo looked at Balin, pleading with the unknown that Balin would remember what could lie ahead,  _ remember _ , though Balin simply nodded. He looked at Dwalin then, eyes wide in panic. 

Dwalin seemed to understand this. 

“Aye, Thorin, I think it would do Bilbo good to see your old room- maybe we could even scrounge up some decent blankets together. Who knows how Frerin left his room?” Dwalin chuckled, and Thorin, tense for a second, relaxed, and laughed. 

He did hold Bilbo just a bit closer, and Bilbo placed his hands on Thorin’s chest to keep his balance. 

The six of them walked closer to Thorin’s old room, and paused in front of the door. It had been left open, and Bilbo could see hints of royal blue and stone grey inside. 

Thorin didn’t say anything as he let go of Bilbo, and entered his old room. It was incredibly tidy- befitting to that of a Crown Prince, and Bilbo followed him. There was his bed, with sheets of Durin Blue, and the walls were covered in tapestries, except for one spot, wide enough for a dwarf to place his hand. One painting hung above his desk, and Bilbo paused when he saw this painting, for the second time in his long life. 

He walked towards it slowly, and paused in front of the desk. 

It was a family portrait, one that had been done when Thorin had been a toddler, Dis was close to being a toddler, and Frerin had just been born. His parents were there, somehow holding all three children. Thorin’s grandfather stood there, Thro´r, and his wife, Arámanis. 

_ “Thorin loved this painting over anything.” _ Balin had told him, when they both cried over Thorin’s young face staring back at them, a hopeful smile on his face. 

Bilbo closed his eyes, looking away. He turned away, and watched Fili and Kili point excitedly over one tapestry, whispering something like, ‘Ori would  _ love _ this-’, and he saw Dwalin and Thorin in the corner, in front of his old closet, arguing affectionately over an article of clothing that Dwalin held up. 

Bilbo walked back next to Balin, the presence of someone he had faced all this once before, and would do it again. 

“Thorin loved this painting over anything.” Balin nodded at the painting over the desk. Bilbo laughed softly, smiling. 

“I love it, too. Thorin was an adorable child.” 

Balin looked at him, and gave him a wink, leaning in. “By dwarf standards, you see-”   
  


“Thorin is not that attractive, I know. Fili and Kili aren’t either, but the Ri brothers are. I know.” Bilbo grinned, “I’ve heard what dwarf standards are. By my standards, however, the Durin family is breath-taking.” He looked over to Thorin, who was hugging Dwalin now tightly. 

“You’re such a sap, lad, I was simply going to say that Thorin had already started growing a beard when he was a child.” Balin shook his head, chuckling. “By Mahal’s beard, you’re besotted over our dear king.”

“I wouldn’t say  _ besotted _ .” Bilbo grumbled in embarrassment, blushing brightly. “Balin. Dwalin told me that Thorin’s mother might still be here.” 

“Yes. I fear her body will still be in her room. When Smaug came, we couldn’t find her in the aftermath. We have to assume she’s still here.”

“Is it a good idea, then, to go there tonight?” Bilbo walked with Balin into the hallway, twiddling nervously with his fingers. His nerves had pooled in the pit of his stomach, and he could feel the presence of the Ring coming back. 

“He will find her, eventually, Bilbo. This way, he has us, and he still has his mind.” Balin looked at Bilbo with a warm smile. A confident smile. 

Thorin opened the heavy stone door, and held his hand out for Bilbo to take. 

“I found something that I think would suit you quite well.” 

Bilbo took his hand with raised eyebrows and Thorin rushed him over to stand in front of his old closet, pulling out - what Bilbo assumed was sleepwear- a pale blue nightgown, that when Thorin held it against Bilbo’s shoulders, stopped around his knees. 

“I think it would fit you.” Thorin grinned, “It was mine when I was much younger. I thought it’d be a nice change, to sleep in something other than the clothes you’ve been wearing for months.” 

Bilbo smiled at this, and took the nightgown from Thorin’s hands. That would be nice. It was a soft material, something like linen but it felt warmer, felt thicker. Not quite wool, not it was much lighter. It had stood the test of time, as the material felt as if it had been woven yesterday. 

“Is blue your favourite colour?” Bilbo asked, rolling the nightgown up carefully. 

Thorin looked around his room, shrugging. “The colour of Durin’s line. My mother thought the colour fit me well.” 

“It does. It matches your eyes.” Bilbo grinned, and Thorin placed his arms around Bilbo’s shoulders, pulling him close again. 

“Has everyone had enough of my old room? We can move on, yes?” Thorin looked at the others. Balin had lain down on Thorin’s old bed, and as he laid, there was a cloud of dust that escaped the old mattress. 

“Comfortable?” Thorin chuckled. 

Balin grumbled, rearranging the pillows a bit, but smiled finally. “Compared to the dirt and stone we’ve been laying on? Yes. But I will come with you, see the rest of the rooms.” Balin started getting up again. 

“Very well.” Thorin nodded, and the six of them moved on, combing through the rooms of Thorin’s siblings. Dis’ room held a lot of blue tones, incredibly similar to Thorin’s room in both the furniture, as well as the organisation. 

“Dis prided herself on her cleanliness. She would weep if she saw her room now, covered in dust.” Thorin commented to Bilbo, looking over her old vanity, the mirror covered in a fine layer of dust. 

Frerin’s room was the complete opposite to his siblings- instead of dark tones of blue and grey, of tapestries and paintings, his room held a simple yellow banner over the bed, which was covered in yellow blankets, and the walls were bare, showing the stone of the mountain. 

“Damn brat always said he could hear the stone whisper better if nothing covered it.” Dwalin huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked away quickly, but Bilbo swore he saw tears glistening in Dwalin’s eyes. 

“I remember.” Thorin said, leaning against the stone with his face pressed into it. “He always claimed he could hear the miners work from up here, and that when they found the Arkenstone, he heard the first gasp.” 

“Is that true?” Fili asked, raising an eyebrow in doubt. Kili, on the other hand, grinned widely in excitement. 

“Doubt it.” Thorin huffed, stepping away from the wall. “I love my brother, but he wasn’t that talented in hearing the stone. He was a talented storyteller, though.” He smiled at his nephews, shaking his head. 

Thorin stood in front of the door to his parents’ room, hands ready to pull the door open. Bilbo knew what he was thinking, and he wished he could tell him that, no, his mother was not in this room. In her last moment, she had fled to her mother-in-law’s room, and had held tightly onto Arámanis. The two, Nura and Arámanis, had died together in the darkness, and Balin had been the first to see their bodies, laying on the bed. 

But Bilbo couldn’t tell anyone this. 

Thorin finally opened the door, and stepped inside, holding his breath. 

His parents’ room had been more elaborate than the simple one bedroom that he and his siblings had gotten. His parents resemble more of a single unit, including the bedroom, a small living room, and their own bath chambers, where the children had to use the family’s bath chambers. 

Bilbo let the others go first, and after they cleared the area, Thorin returned to Bilbo with a deepened frown. Bilbo could read Thorin’s thoughts clearly,  _ where was his mother _ ?

On their way to the royal bed chambers, Thorin took Bilbo’s hand, squeezing it tightly. 

At first, they entered the chambers of the king, carefully, and peering around every corner, as if they would see a ghost. Maybe they would. 

The King’s chambers had been empty, and they were still empty. Grand, and spacious, Bilbo had been impressed when he saw them the last time, and he was still impressed this time. He thought about how Dáin had served Erebor well as King, and for a second he thought that he would serve Erebor well again, but shook his head when he saw Thorin stand next to the wide bed, a grim look on his face. 

As they went along, Thorin lit the candles that were attached to the walls, creating more light. 

He’d vowed to see Thorin alive, and if Thorin was alive, then he would be King. He would lead them in the war against the Enemy well, Bilbo knew it. 

_ Just because he’s not gone mad yet, doesn’t mean he won’t go mad at all. Remember, remember, Bilbo, things have changed, and you cannot anticipate them anymore. You cannot save your dwarf love, you cannot save him. _

Bilbo stopped walking, craning his head backwards with the sudden force that the Ring spoke to him. He shivered, his right leg aching again. 

“Bilbo?” Thorin rushed to him, cupping his face. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Bilibo breathed out, shaking off the shivers. “My leg, we’ve been walking so much-” He lied a bit. 

“I’m so sorry.” Thorin shook his head, jaw clenched. “I should have realized sooner. You don’t have to do this last room with me. I’m sure of what I will find. I have my family with me. You can rest here, and I will return shortly to you.” He passed the torch to Dwalin, then took Bilbo into his arms again, and laid him down gently on the bed in the King’s chambers. 

If Thorin’s bed had been dusty, then this bed was entirely grimy. A cloud of dust popped up, and Bilbo coughed roughly. A good distraction, though, from the show of strength that Thorin had just done, as Bilbo was sure he was quite heavy. 

“No, I want to be with you- I want to be there for you-” Bilbo coughed through the dust, hands clinging onto Thorin’s shirt. 

“Ghivashel. You did so much already.” Thorin whispered, and kissed Bilbo deeply, sliding in between his legs onto the bed. “Stay here. Wait for me, here.” He breathed, hands rubbing down Bilbo’s legs. 

What was Bilbo supposed to say?   
  


All he really did, was moan, and immediately shut his mouth, slapping his hands over his mouth, bright red again. 

Thorin pulled back, a feral look on his face, and shook his head. 

“I-I will- I will be back-” Thorin held up a finger, eyes narrowed, and left swiftly. 

Bilbo closed his eyes, and hid his face behind his hands. 

“How embarrassing.” He hissed, and started clearing the bed of dust, picking up the blankets and sheets off of the mattress, and hanging them over the four poster bed to properly beat the fabric. 

“How embarrassing.” He repeated, and shook his head. Right about now, Thorin was facing the bodies of his family, hiding in fear, and Bilbo wasn’t there. 

Fili, Kili, Dwalin, and Balin were there, though. 

_ Is this when it starts? _

Bilbo dropped the fabric, stepping back in surprise. He slid his hand into his pocket, touching the Ring hesitantly, before he realized what he was doing, and ripped his hand out. 

**He’s of sound mind, this time. You saw him. He’s focused on his people.** Bilbo thought back, proud of how easily Thorin had left the treasure behind. 

**It’s different, this time, around. And where did you scurry off to, when Lady Yavanna saved me?**

No answer. 

Bilbo felt smug, and reassured. The Light of Yavanna had healed his leg, but it had also scared off the voice of the Ring. He bent down to pick up the sheets, then gazed at the door. 

Did the Light of Yavanna stave off the madness from Thorin’s mind? 

Was it possible?

The door opened slowly, and Thorin walked in, and he exhaled when he saw Bilbo with the sheets.

“You needn’t have done that, ghivashel. Your leg.” Thorin walked over, and took the sheets from Bilbo with a kind touch, pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“What did you find?” Bilbo asked hesitantly, watching Thorin make the bed properly. He could see how Thorin’s hands were shaking. 

“My grandmother.” Thorin answered after he finished making the bed, taking off his cloak and putting it over the nightstand. He looked beautiful in this light, the candles flickering softly. 

“Your grandmother?” Bilbo frowned, looking back to where Thorin had come from.  _ Where was his mother _ ?

“We lost her in the chaos. We lost my mother, too. I pulled my grandfather out of the treasure halls, and together with my father, my brother, and my sister, we fled. We never found my grandmother, nor my mother. I thought she would be here, too. I don’t know where she is laying now.” Thorin sighed, and undid his belt as well, putting his sword to the side. 

Bilbo swallowed nervously, cracking his knuckles carefully. He didn’t want to touch the fingers of his left hand too often, their dark and bruised skin still taunting him with the loss of their feeling. 

Where was she?

“Come, let’s rest.” Thorin tugged out his own night robe from his rolled up pack, and disrobed quite quickly. Bilbo looked away, out of decency, but he did see a hint of muscle from his back. 

Bilbo undressed himself, too, and slowly slipped on the sleepwear that Thorin had given him. 

“Blue suits you well, Bilbo.” Thorin smiled when Bilbo turned around, and Bilbo climbed onto the bed, shivering in the sudden cold. Thorin went around the room, blowing out all candles save for one. 

Thorin joined him, pulling the blanket tightly around them. 

“Goodnight, ghivashel.” He whispered, tugging Bilbo close. 

Bilbo closed his eyes, Thorin wrapped around his back, and nodded. 

“Goodnight, Thorin.” 

He knew he wouldn’t sleep much tonight, but he hoped that Thorin would sleep well. Would rest well. He looked over to where he had rolled his clothes up tightly, where the Ring lay hidden now. 

Thorin’s breathing evened out, and his hands curled tighter around Bilbo’s waist. 

Bilbo leant back, letting himself melt in the embrace. 

Where was his mother’s body? Why was she gone? Who had moved it?

And where was the Arkenstone? What would they do with Smaug’s body? When would Thorin call for Dáin? 

When would Bard appear, asking for their reward? When would Thranduil show up, claiming their gems? Would Thranduil remember the oath he gave to Bilbo?

How would he explain that to Thorin?

Bilbo lay awake, plagued by questions, and looked over to his pack, where the small vial was that Aglarhel had given him. In his last panic, he had forgotten that he had this plant. 

Thorin curled tighter around the Hobbit, sleeping deeply, and mumbled. 

“Bilbo.”

Bilbo turned around slowly, burying his face in Thorin’s warm chest. He had been worried that Thorin wouldn’t be able to sleep, faced with the home that had been ripped from him. The exhaustion of fighting must have tired him out enough. 

“I love you, Thorin.” Bilbo mumbled, curling tighter, if he could. 

And so, while he didn’t sleep well throughout the night, he did rest when he lay awake, for he was not alone, and he would fight the next day, just as he had the last few days. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khazâd- dwarves  
> Kurdu- heart
> 
> (the literal translation, but the meaning of it then means 'Heart of the Company', or maybe something more romantic even like 'Dwarves' heart.)
> 
> (follow me on insta @pallalalo for updates. i update through stories mostly)


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